Kingdoms of the Second Age

Exhausted in both body and mind after the prolonged struggle that took Frumps’s life, we decided to return once again to Mustment to lick our wounds. We checked in with Kreass and Gav, stocked up a bit, and made our way back into the temple.

Upon reaching the guard chamber where we had our most recent battle we saw the corpses of our slain enemies from a week ago. Being suspicious I decided to cast detect magic on them and determined there were indeed magics at work below.

After some discussion it was decided we would lower a rope into the room and pour lamp oil down it like a wick. We set the floor of the room on fire and charred the enemy dead. Feeling proud of ourselves we dropped into the guard room and the dead began to rise.

The dead finished rising and then began to fight. However, their flesh had been damaged by the flames and they were easily dispatched. On one of the corpses we discovered a jailor’s key ring which we assumed would open the cells we had seen.

It did. We freed the blind elven maiden and another of her traveling companions, a burly fighter named Brock with wild eyes and a bit of froth at the edge of his mouth. Based on the state of the elven prisoner we decided to take her back to Mustment before proceeding with the necromancer murdering.

We proceeded deeper into the temple and encountered a library and an alchemy lab. There were no enemies of note, but we did secure a vial of shit load of potions and poison, and a scroll of Grease.

Rested and enraged we finally returned to the forsaken swamp temple to exact our revenge. Past the row of cells we found a massive door leading into a two-level ritual chamber. A balcony ran all around the perimeter of the room at the second floor. In the center was a dais with Fumps’s body laid out upon it. On the balcony above two necromancers were acting suspicious.

We decided to interrupt their ritual with a bunch of shouting and magics and so forth. The necromancers cast a swarm of bats on us and unleashed a magical floating claw that slowly hovered toward the group. Francis hooked a grapnel onto the balcony and secured a way up for the fighters.

Before Strude and Brock were able to climb the rope, one of the necromancers cast grease on it, covering it in a slippery, flammable substance. Despite this setback, our fighters scaled the rope and set upon the necromancers with their big sharp pieces of metal. The necromancers fled.

Before we could regroup, the necromancers returned with a terrifying demon. It was the size of an average man, but it’s head resembled a squid and its eyes were full of hate. The monstrosity lunged toward Strude and it’s tentacles latched onto his face.

Francis and Crackle battled with the swarm of bats down below, and tried to use the illusion dust to distract the necromancers from Frumps’s corpse. This may or may not have worked.

While the squid demon struggled with Strude, Brock rushed up behind it and layed a savage beating on it with his sword(s). The creature made no sound but we all felt a scream of rage inside our minds. Strude struck it directly in its beak and then whirled his blade around into a brutal overhand chop. He severed two of the thing’s tentacles and buried his blade in it’s body.

There was an audible gasp from the necromancers as the creature slumped to the ground. Then they turned and fled from the chamber. We were too tired and shocked by what we had just seen to pursue. Searching the body of the creature I discovered a small ring on one of its strangely feminine fingers and slipped it on. I didn’t regrow my penis, but nothing bad happened, so I decided to keep it.

With no more enemies remaining, we explored on into the corridor the necromancers had fled down. It wasn’t long before we found a small room with an opening into the fresh air, and a rope ladder leading out. We gladly put the temple behind us and headed on back to Mustment.

We all agreed, it was time to move on from Mustment. The young elf woman we had rescued was eager to return home to Qualinost and indicated that her father would be most happy and generous to see her return home safely. The journey would take two weeks of road time, and we would pass through Sulia, home of my magical mentor Horgo Rune. Considering we had lost a friend in these gods forsaken swamps we all felt eager and hopeful about the journey ahead.

Fuck. Just fuck… I dunno. Even my new titties are small comfort as I write this log, but the story must be told or our sacrifices will be meaningless.

We returned to the temple in the swallowed lands where we had bested the tests of the four archetypes and pillaged much treasure in gold, gems and magical gear. After a fairly uneventful trip through the swamps and a short rest in our camp room on the first floor, we ventured downward to see if there were any mysteries we had overlooked.

We descended into the main chamber of the second floor of the temple and discovered that all was not as we had left it. As we strode boldly forward, Francis heard the subtle scrape of metal against stone, of bone against bone, and before we could react, six skeletal warriors were upon us.

We dispatched them with minor difficulties, although my reluctance to use my missiles led to a light wound, which Frumps was kind enough to cure.

We then entered the treasure room that had lain behind the door of four sockets and we saw a massive stone door, covered over with runes. The amulet now depending between my freshly formed bosoms emitted a mild hum that I recognized from when it had been used to open doors in the temple on previous journeys into these forsaken depths.

My heart pounded as I held up the amulet and approached the portal. Light! A brilliant flash and a bridge of coruscating energy connected the amulet and the door, filling the runes with a pulsing vibrancy that demanded I look away, though I could not.

The energy link between amulet and door was severed with an audible shred and I sagged to my knees, exhausted. The massive doors were vibrating in rhythm with the pulsing of the runes and the dust of ages cascaded down its face. The pulsing of the occult light increased and finally the portal split and ground open before us.

A massive corridor beckoned us on. The air felt fresh, far fresher than the stagnant tomb we had just emerged from. In the far distance at the edge of our torchlight we could see a square depression in the floor.

After much trepidation, we approached the depression to discover it was a barred hole leading down into what appeared to be an empty jail cell. Further down the corridor we saw three more such depressions, with the last one appearing larger and further away.

In the second depression we found life. In fact, we found an elven woman cowering in the corner. Francis spoke to her and we discovered she was disoriented and near starvation after being captured on a journey through the swamps. Her traveling companions had been captured, and she assumed them dead because of the screaming she had heard over the past few days. We dropped her a wine skin and some bread and cheese which she consumed greedily. By the way she reacted only to sound, we surmised that she was completely blind and experienced her world through noise and vibration.

Being unable to shift the upper bars of her cell we moved on, assuring her we would return when we found a way to rescue her. She was pretty busy eating, but she grunted and we headed off down the corridor.

The third grate revealed another empty jail cell, although the door into the lower level was swinging open.

As we approached the final grate, we noticed the bars were gone and the stone around it was cracked and broken. Francis approached stealthily and witnessed an unsettling scene. Five Kobolds were at some sort of game underneath the opening, and further into the room there were three hulking forms that he recognized from the swamps as hobgoblins.

Francis informed us of the situation using hand signals, and while we considered our options, Strude’s bloodlust overcame his meager intellect and he leaped forward into the hole. Brave Frumps, unwilling to let his companion face danger alone similarly executed an acrobatic (for a dwarf) entrance into the hole. Francis and I crowded around the opening looking for ways to assist our companions.

The battle that followed… I’d really rather not. It’s too painful. With Francis and I supporting them from above, Strude and Frumps were clearly more than a match for their opponents, but… Some times the gods are hateful and petty.

Frumps begged Theandra’s hand to stay our most powerful foes, but she deigned only to press her finger down upon one of the hobgoblin marauders. I slew one of the Kobolds with my missile, but Francis’s arrows fell short of their targets again and again. Though Strude and Frumps fought furiously, many of their blows fell short. Strude was able to disembowel one of the Hobgoblins, and Frumps managed a glorious blow against a Kobold attempting to rush him, but…

It seemed as our successes mounted, the gods’ disdain for us increased. A Kobold, assisted by it’s fellow, leaped up into the corridor with Francis and I. I brandished my frying pan against it, striking a mighty, but non-fatal blow, while Francis fired wide with his crossbow.

In the panic up above I was unable to see what transpired below, but I remember the bloodcurdling howls of the hobgoblins growing ever louder.

Francis attempted to brain the Kobold near us with his lute, but missed spectacularly, and barely managed to hang on to his weapon. I missed my next swing, as did Francis, who stumbled and fell to his knees in his fury to end our opponent. Glancing over my shoulder into the hole I saw Frumps and Strude fighting back to back. Frumps’s helmet was badly dented and there was a great rent across the chain mail over his chest. A dark pool spread around the feet of the two warriors, and just as I lurched back to my feet I saw Frumps fall to one knee as he swung wide with his mace.

Rage welling up within me, I lashed out at the Kobold with a vicious overhead swing of my frying pan and caved in it’s skull.

By the time Francis and I managed to scramble to the edge of the hole and assess the situation we were just in time to witness Strude cleave the final Hobgoblin brute in half. We slid down into the room and found Frumps laying on the ground in a massive pool of chalky dwarven blood, barely breathing.

Blinded by grief and rage at the gods’ fickle whims and visions of my friend’s imminent death, I reached into my pack and produced a mysterious powder I had found within the temple. I dropped a pinch onto Frumps’s prone form and fell to my knees as he breathed his last.

Strude leaped forward and howled an ancient Rappopo war cry meant to terrify the spirit of death and brought his fists down heavily on Frumps’s chest. He beat against the torn chain mail while wailing for a full ten minutes, while Francis and I stared on, in shock at the apparent death of our friend.

We took a moment to catch our breath in the guard room and waited as long as we could to see if the powder had some sort of delayed effect. When we finally approached Frumps and pressed on his chest, we heard a sigh of breath escaping from his mouth. The cast of his eyes made it clear that he was well and truly gone.

And so we find ourselves here, in this forsaken dungeon, deep under the swamps. We don’t know how deep under the swamps, because our dwarf is dead. Frumps was a healer and a warrior. He served the goddess of strength and protection and she gave him neither. He spread the word of her glory and she let his organs be spread across the cold stone. May his spirit be taken up by a more worthy god and Theandra made weaker by his absence. And for us who remain, may we remember that without Frumps, we are fragile and weak of body. May we learn from his sacrifice that reckless action – be it fighting unprepared or using unknown substances in dire circumstances – can have reckless consequences.

Frumps Enormous, we commend your body to the cold stone floor of this guard station. We commend your gold to our purses and your possessions to our arsenal. We will watch over your cow, who you have protected so valiantly, and we will curse the name of Theandra, the deity who allowed her servant to perish in her service.

Frumps will be succeeded by his unused castings of Sanctuary and Protection from Evil.

“We were approached by the (drunk) mayor of Mustment at the three walls. He offered us 50gp each to figure out and subsequently deal with whatever was eating and mutating cows to the north. Being stupid, and probably drunk ourselves, we accepted.

We set off to the north, stopping at a farm on the way where Mark paid way too much for fastest cow and slowest donkey in Mustment. This transaction complete, we rode our majestic creatures (mark on cow, me on donkey) further north, toward the swamps.

With night approaching, we set up a camp near the swamps and collapsed into a drunken stupor. Unfortunately, we were rudely awakened by the horrifying sounds of our beloved cow having its face eaten off by two bat/man creatures.

With rage that can only come from avenging your favorite cow, we proceeded to beat and burn these creatures to death in the most brutal way possible. After they were dispatched, Mark made himself busy violating the monster’s corpses, while I healed our cow.

The infestation (or at least part of it) having been taken care of, we returned victorious to the 3 walls to collect our reward."

Session 4

Being beaten and bloodied after their exploration of the first floor of the swamp temple and a partial sortie into the lower reaches, the party decided to return to Mustment to lick their wounds. On their dreary slog back through the swamps, the group saw a troop of Gnolls making their way in the opposite direction, but far enough off so as not to draw their attention. Nobody felt like getting into a fight and so everyone hid in the swamp plants and water. Frumps took one step to the left and was completely obscured by a sickly fern.

The party set aside a week for rest, recovery and restocking (RR&R) and each member managed to make the most of this time. Frumps spent his recovery time getting drunk with Willy the local cleric/brewer and discussing the virtues of Theandra. Strude spent several days recovering from particularly grievous wounds he had suffered at the bony hands of the tortured skeletons, kobolds and god damn enormous bone snakes (necrophidian obscenitus). Francis Wallclimber, the increasingly more competent bard decided to avail himself of the pittance of knowledge available within Crackl’n Oat Bran’s spellbook and learned himself a few new spells. Oat Bran himself decided to visit The Old Hag oddities emporium and stocked up on spell components, including an eagle feather and several vials of various liquids for use with his metamorphose liquids spell. He immediately decided to put this spell to use in a poorly thought out get rich quick scheme by purchasing a bucket, filing it with water and then transforming that water into lamp oil. Sadly for him, the general goods merchant had no use for a bucket or lamp oil, nor had the tavern keeper of the Three walls.

Additionally, during their stay Krilkle and Strude decided to show the magical dagger that they had retrieved from the tomb to Kreas. Strude was feeling quite uncomfortable due to the evil magics emanating from the weapon, despite its place near his socks, and Krilkle couldn’t use daggers, but he could definitely use gold. After much negotiating a deal was struck and the party split 275 gold between themselves. Despite Frumps and Francis completely failing to help with the retrieval of the dagger, their share was an equal quarter.

The party was now ready to set out and carry on their exploration of the second floor of the temple and so C.O.B. decided to ditch the cumbersome and dangerous lamp oil into the latrine pits behind the Three Walls Tavern, while retaining the bucket.

On their way back to the temple, the party chanced upon two Gnolls(or possibly Hobgoblins) bullshitting with each other off in the distance. Feeling reinvigorated and surly from their stay in Mustment, they elected to thoroughly slaughter the two swamp locals. They didn’t feel bad about it at all, nor did they even really break a sweat.

Upon returning to the temple the party elected to continue exploring the wing that had yielded the magic dagger a week before.

The temple itself was set up in a fairly logical fashion. Upon descending the stairs to the second floor there was a room with several pillars and a massive door at the far side. The door was covered in ornate carvings depicting four types of people, surmised by the party to be a warrior, a priest, a rogue and a wizard. From this central room four doors presented themselves, each presumably leading to a wing of the temple based around the strengths of its governing carving. The wing in which Krilkle and Strude had found the dagger was associated with the priest. They had also explored the ‘Rogue’ wing, which had drop-slimes and a pit trap in the hallway directly after the door, leading to an empty room with a carving of a Rogue on the wall.

Back in the present, the party approached a door in the ‘Priest’ wing of the dungeon and listened at it before opening. They heard indistinguishable chants being murmured from behind and spent much time speculating about how to approach the unknown threat beyond. Finally, Strude, disgusted by his companions lack of bravery, burst through the door and rushed those inside.

Those inside first appeared to be sickly looking human monks, bald and robed with dirty fingernails and like three teeth each. However, as the party engaged the horrors dropped their disguise and revealed themselves to be Hecuva – gnarly, gross undead somewhere between a ghoul and a lich. Strude and Frumps rushed into the front lines, while Krilkle and Frances moved into position along the back wall.

Krlilke loosed a fearsome magic missile against Strude’s target, dealing full damage(5). Strude probably landed a solid hit on the monstrosity, but due to its magical nature it only took a bit of damage(3). The first Hecuva slashed at Strude with its rancid clawed hands, dealing significant damage and inflicting a heinous poison upon him. Frumps decided to cure his comrade in arms and did so, a bit. The second Hecuva also rushed at strude, but its wild thrashing was stymied by its tattered robes. Francis had been readying his crossbow and loosed a bolt toward the undamaged adversary, drawing its attention toward him.

At this point, Krilkle decided to call on his last resort, a wild magic dweomer capable of casting any spell he knew, however the evil magics flowing around the Hecuva amplified his attempt at a magic missile and what flew was a lightning bolt much more powerful than he should have been capable of. The savage bolt rebounded around the room blasting the injured Hecuva into necromantic dust and severely injuring Strude, Frumps and Krilkle.

The rest of the battle seemed to play out in slow motion, with the party at the edge of defeat, the remaining Hecuva attempted to brutalize Francis, but failed again and again. It weathered a storm of blows from Francis, Strude and Frumps, and was finally felled when Krilkle waded into the fray and dealt it a fatal blow with his quarterstaff.

p. Stunned and confused, the party cast about the room, making sure all of their organs and limbs were intact, or at least, in their backpacks. Krilkle pocketed two gemstones laying on the floor and Strude retrieved a glowing gem from a massive statue on a plinth in the center of the room and they decided, fuck this, lets go back to town.
p. STUB- CONSULTNOTES

Back to town, uneventful

In town, sell gems, divide up dollar bills, get discounted rates at the Church of Theandra.
Francis learned several more spells, but failed a few good ones.

Back to temple, uneventfull

Went to warrior wing, everyone but Frumps jumped in the fighting circle, Animated armor nearly crushed us, something else, got a glowing gem.
p. Went to thief wing, wasted a bunch of time thinking about how to rig a rope in order to cross a 5ft wide pit, found an illusory pile of gold that triggered poison gas (forgot how we got out of that). Got a glowing gem
p. Went to wizard wing, don’t remember what happened in here at all, got a glowing gem.
p. Put glowing gems in the main door, entered treasure room, found a treasure for each of us, Krilkle is now a woman.

The party spent the better part of the morning eating breakfast and getting their bearings after their abject failure the previous day. The Three Walls tavern was drafty as ever, yet their fare of some gross fish dish or a reasonable breakfast of ham, potatoes and eggs filled Krilkle and Strude with the vigor to carry on their mission.

They made brief contact with Kreass, updating him on the disastrous happenings of the previous few days. He seemed to understand that those who would profit by the blood of others must hold patience close and the meeting was uneventful.
Conveniently, just as the four indigents had finished their breakfasts, a man of the Rapopo tribe burst into the tavern. His gaze fixed on Strude and even those who couldn’t recognize his heathen tongue recognized the recognition on his face. Strude embraced his brother-tribesman in some sort of weird homo-erotic ritual grasp and then the man who’s name was ZshZshokly spewed out his tale of trouble.
Zshzshokly’s brother had been captured by what were eventually identified as kobolds during a routine scouting mission and ZSKly was desperate for assistance in liberating him. Strude’s tribal obligations, combined with the group’s thirst for plunder, slaughter and whatever else led the group to follow ZSKly into the swamps.
Their destination was close, ZSKly had made the trip in a single day, but it took the fivesome a day and a quarter to reach the temple where ZSKly had witnessed his brother being dragged.
They encountered a clearing full up with a temple. There were six kobolds visible, and due to some quick thinking and speaking in kobold by Franics, the group was able to approach before engaging the filthy rat-lizards. Four of the initial six were brutally slaughtered before ZSKly’s brother STMF was escorted out by three more rat-lizards. They seemed to want to surrender the captive and leave with their skins on their bodies, but this was not an acceptable option for the warlike Rapoppo tribesmen. The rest of the group indulged in the bloodthirsty slaughter and STMF was rescued.
ZSKly was horribly wounded during the clearing of the first floor and his brother insisted on taking him home for treatment. As ZSKly had risked much to lead the party to this temple and had taken a potentially mortal wound in his attempt to rescue his brother, the party had no objections to the two making their way home.
gonna need to see the maps for the rest of this
Skeletons
Second floor had a main room with four branching paths, each associated with an archetype depicted on various murals.
Strude dodged several drop-slimes like a total pro, while Krilkle followed behind. With the dwarf and the elf-bastard having made camp on the first floor, the two had to use extreme caution, yet upon encountering a skeleton filled torture room with a sweet magic dagger anchoring the souls of the dead to their fates, Strude rushed in and claimed the dagger. The dead guys rose up and nearly killed our protagonists, but Strude chugged his potion of heroism and fought like a raging beast. Despite grievous wounds to Strude, the two managed to dispatch their bony antagonists and claim the dagger for their own.
Strude insisted on engaging in the Rapoppo ritual of loaning before handing the dagger to Krilkle for inspection. The inspection revealed that the dagger was in fact magical, although this could have been determined by its distinct smell of raw flowers and the coruscating purple energy dancing across its blade.
Bloodied but victorious, Strude and Krilkle dragged themselves back to the first floor camp where their feckless companions were already bedded down. They engaged in another Rapoppo ritual which consisted of the sharing of wound-blood between battle brothers and also the rubbing of their scrotums-on-the-sleeping, and then bedded down.

Krilkle and Strude, emboldened from their last success, decided to inquire about Mustment for more information concerning the solid gold statue they had laboriously hauled back through the swamp.

They met Kreass and Gav, who Strude could not communicate with due to his lack of linguistic agility. Through a stilted and awkward conversation often verging on the racist, they negotiated a deal to sell the statue for 90 gold pieces (about 30 more than it would have been worth if melted down for raw materials) and secured a contract to provide more artifacts to Kreass. The contract came with a 10 gold bonus and a warning that they had better produce something of interest.

During the meeting with Kreass, a penniless bard, Francis Wallclimber, who had been performing unsuccessfully in the Three-Walls Tavern inserted himself into the dialog for unknown reasons. He appeared to be quite spry and adept at climbing walls. During the negotiation he was given numerous prompts by Krilkle to lend some assistance and justify his uninvited presence but each fell flatter than the bard’s lute-work.

The negotiations concluded on a rather sour note, Krilkle being unable to sell either the bard or Strude for sex to Kreass, however it was revealed that Gav might be interested should their arrangement bear profit.

Krilkle and Strude spend the better part of the next day attempting to gather information and get their bearings regarding the Shifting Lands in order to make good on their promise. The shiftless bard attempted to busk for the downtrodden public in Mustment with little success, despite the generous tips he had received from Krilkle for his mediocre assistance.

Krilkle and Strude, having finally exhausted their own patience and the knowledge of the locals decided to put up for the night and venture into the swamps the following morning.

On their way out, they saw a dwarf sleeping in the tavern, wearing priestly vestments. Strude grabbed him by his collar and dragged him along, Krilkle tossed a gold to the bard who was ruining an ancient folk ballad of Sulia outside the tavern, and the four set out for adventure.

Strude led them astray for three fucking miserable days after they missed their ferry. Three days and two nights later, wet, alone and in total darkness in the swamp, they called it in and returned to Mustment. The journey may have been a success had any of the adventurers thought to include a way to light a fire in their personal kits or ask anyone in town to draw them a map to where they might find a risen temple. Lamp oil is just stinky and heavy if you can’t put a spark to it.

First thing upon arriving back in Mustment everyone purchased a flint and steel in order to never again be without fire, except for Francis Wallclimber who inscrutably purchased a flint and silver. Perhaps bards just need to be fancy.

First Adventure

Strude and Krilkle were roused from their booze-slumber and coerced into exploring a recently extruded tomb near the town of Mustment. It was easy enough for them to find and still easier to slay all of the inhabitants, including a pretty mediocre necromancer.
During the climactic battle with aforementioned necromancer, Krilkle’s wild magic blinded everyone in the room resulting in not a huge problem really.
Despite completely having their way with the temple’s inhabitants, the pair balked at pilfering the treasure that their savagery had earned. A furious debate raged on into the night. Strude had found an ancient and magical spear held aloft in the hands of a golden statue. After claiming his trophy, Krilkle cast his gaze about the piles of gold and other oddities but was counselled by Strude against claiming the riches of the worshipers of the dead.
Krilkle said “Fuck that, if I don’t get treasure, neither do you,” and convinced Strude that all of the spoils should be left behind to be reclaimed by the swamp. Finally Strude relented and, with the temple crumbling around them, the two made ready to depart.
However, on the way out Krilkle snagged a couple of sweet looking potions, a surreptitious gesture which was completely noticed by Strude. To calm Strude’s wrath toward his duplicity Krilkle suggested they drag home the golden statue which had held the ancient and magical spear.
Having done this, they returned uneventfully to the town of Mustment, hid the statue from the prying eyes of the locals, and drank themselves to sleep.

A blog for your campaign

While the wiki is great for organizing your campaign world, it’s not the best way to chronicle your adventures. For that purpose, you need a blog!

The Adventure Log will allow you to chronologically order the happenings of your campaign. It serves as the record of what has passed. After each gaming session, come to the Adventure Log and write up what happened. In time, it will grow into a great story!

Best of all, each Adventure Log post is also a wiki page! You can link back and forth with your wiki, characters, and so forth as you wish.

One final tip: Before you jump in and try to write up the entire history for your campaign, take a deep breath. Rather than spending days writing and getting exhausted, I would suggest writing a quick “Story So Far” with only a summary. Then, get back to gaming! Grow your Adventure Log over time, rather than all at once.